


Drunken Stories

by Cat16



Series: Cowboah Oneshots [15]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 05:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30033996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat16/pseuds/Cat16
Summary: Found this on my phone and I don’t think I ever posted it during my rdr phase
Series: Cowboah Oneshots [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753006
Kudos: 5





	Drunken Stories

“I swear boys it’s the truth, I saw him.” The drunken man exclaimed. His equally drunk buddies snorted with laughter, taking the next round of shots the barkeep was sliding across, likely to keep the men too drunk to pick a fight with one of his usual patrons. Though the one he was _really_ worried about was the one who had been drinking, yet acted entirely sober, his hat pushed low to obscure his eyes, and more importantly; the numerous guns and knives on his person. From what he could see, the man had two revolvers, in holsters on each hip, a knife sheathed beside that on his right hip and a rifle and shotgun slung over his shoulder. As the barkeep was studying him, the man tossed over another coin, a drink hurriedly served to him. He hadn’t spoken, only silently drank, paying beforehand.

“I did! We was out by that old house, chasin’ down a gang o’ criminals.” The other man slurred, though the barkeep had to give it to him, he slurred quite emphatically. “Get us another drink, Joe.” The barkeep jumped and poured another round of shots. They were thrown down the men’s throats quickly, the emphatic slurrer – Rob – continuing his tale. “Anyway- we was out by this old abandoned town, chasin’ some rogue gang. One’s a gunslinger.”

“A gunslinger? You was after a gunslinger?” Someone snorted.

“Yeah.” Rob continued, looking distinctly proud of himself. “We heard these gunshots. Gang had shot half the town behind the old cattle barn. Lined ‘em up and shot ‘em in the back.” Rob was standing now, waving his arms and miming shooting a gun. “Man came round the shed, holstering his gun. Saw me and my men and drew and fired. Killed all six of ‘em before I could blink. He walked up to me, put the barrel of his gun on my forehead.”

“You tellin’ me, this feller shot your men and walked up to you, and you _didn’t_ put a bullet between his eyes?” One of the other drinkers asked incredulously.

“He was pointin’ a gun at me too!” He defended. “He opens his mouth to speak when some kid - must’ve only been fourteen – comes running round the barn. Calling ‘Morgan! Dutch needs you!’” There’s a ripple that runs round the group then, some exclamations of disbelief, others surprise.

“Horseshit you met Arthur Morgan.”

“I _swear_ it was him. God – he looked across to the boy, and you could see he was seething. He goes ‘Thanks for telling ‘im who I am, kid.’ Then the kid sees me and he sneers at me. This cocky little brat _sneered_ at me! Anyway, Morgan shoves his gun into my face and threatens me – even cocks the gun!” A few of his friends mutter and he takes that as awe, though the actual reason is far from respect. “He looks me in the eye and goddamn! His eyes are scary. Stark, cold blue. He’s probably killed hundreds of good folk without another thought.”

As he finishes his sentence the man drinking at the bar stands abruptly, his stool crashing backwood to the hardwood floor. He moves toward the group, including Rob and lifts his head. The whole room grows silent as his hat is pushed up slightly.

“Watch who you run round tellin’ tall stories about, mister.” He rumbles, nodding to Rob and turning on his heel, striding our the saloon door. The room stays silent for a moment before someone sitting beside Rob mutters something under his breath.

“You’re right. His eyes are shit scary.”


End file.
